Peeta Mellark's Hunger Games
by calamityglam
Summary: This is the Hunger Games told from Peeta's point of view. I am trying to make it as accurate as possible, so if you notice any problems, message me! Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not owm the Hunger Games. I know that there are a few very obvious errors.
1. Chapter 1

"Get up, Lazy Bones! There's bread to be made!" My mother calls to me, succeeding in her attempt at waking me up in the rudest of ways; you would think she would be kinder, on today of all days. While she has her moments, she is always focused on making the bakery my father owns as successful as possible. I find this odd, considering that it isn't actually hers to control, and that my father was doing fine before she came along; he was raised, just as I have been, around an oven, and knows how to run a bakery. I rise from my bed and lay out my clothing for later in the day, something nicer than my usual hand-me downs. After all, it _was_ reaping day.

I look out the back door and it can't be later than six in the morning, but I figure my mother knows that it's sure to be a big bread day, since all the industrial workers are off of work and school is out. I poke the fire in the brick oven, trying to coax a flame out of it since it's smoldered idly all through the night; I then start to work on mixing different dough and batters for breads and cakes and tarts. I work at that for a while, producing loaves and loaves of bread. I get distracted when the bell in the doorway rings, signaling a customer has come in. It's Gale Hawthorne.

He's two years my senior, so I don't know him in really, other than just in passing. I know that the girls in my year at school gush about him. I know that he has four mouths to feed at home since his father died in a mining accident four years ago, and that his mother runs a laundering service for the district. I also know that he hunts illegally in the wilderness outside of District 12. With Katniss Everdeen. Katniss is my age, and she comes in here with her sister. In fact, the bright parts of my day are those when they stop by to admire the cakes that I ice for the bakery. I like these occasions because I can pay attention to her without it being weird or awkward. To be honest, I had never spoken to her, unless it involved bread. I thought she was beautiful, and I could tell that she couldn't see that. Guys at school stare at her as she passes, but she never notices anyone, of course. Except for Gale. Anyone who knows either of them knows that if there wasn't anything going on between them now, there would be in the near future. I had to admit that I was jealous of him, more jealous than I ought to be.

My father helps Gale. He trades a squirrel for a fresh loaf of bread that I just made, which would bring down the wrath of my mother if she were there, but she was in the back room. I wondered who he was taking it to, where he was going this early in the morning, was he going to hunt with Katniss, and if she would be sharing my bread with him. I sweep the thought away.

He leaves and I make small talk with my brothers Lyca, who is in Gale's year in school, and Mykalie who is twenty. Lyca is going on about how he's been fortunate not to be picked in the reaping for the Hunger Games, and how he's glad that this is his last year in the tribute pool. My mother scorns him for this; she was the last Mayor's daughter, and was brought up to believe that it was an _honorable_ way to die, in the Games. In reality, it is despicable, the fact that after the reaping, two families will go home with two less children.

The Hunger Games are our government's cruel way of telling us that they, the Capitol, are all powerful, and that they can do whatever they want to the twelve districts of Panem, even throw a boy and a girl from each district between the ages of twelve and eighteen into an arena to fight to the death for their entertainment. These Games are viewed by every citizen of Panem, not for entertainment, but to show them that everyone is expendable. That they can kill us all…

I dress in my nice clothes and comb my hair. It's one thirty when Mother calls me so that we can start making our way to the town Square. Once we're there, I take my place in the sixteen year-old section with the rest. I don't speak to anyone, but I am constantly looking for Katniss. I find her, walking her sister to the twelve year-old section, Primrose, I think, is her name, and she looks beautiful, even though this is such a sad occasion. On this day, we should all be wearing black.

Mayor Undersee recites the history of Panem, which I tune out. I look at the full reaping balls, and think of how many times my name is in it. Just four. Then I think of how many someone like Katniss has in there. In the districts, you can sign up for tessarae, which supplies each member of your family with a year's supply of grain and oil. Unfortunately, this means that your name goes into the reaping ball one more time for each member of your family, including yourself, after the collective years your name has gone in since you were twelve. I have never had to sign up for tesserae, because we have always had more than enough food, even if it was just stale bread. You can sign up as many times as there are members in your family, plus the one time that you have to every year. Katniss's name would be in twenty times. Her chances of not getting drawn weren't good.

Mayor Undersee finished the treaty. The only Victor 12 had ever had, Haymitch Abernathy, has just walked onto the stage, and staggers over to a chair that has been empty since the beginning of the reaping. To avoid further nationwide humiliation caused by our drunken Mentor, Mayor Undersee quickly introduces Effie Trinket, 12's Capitol escort. A petite woman in very high heels and a pink wig stands, and Haymitch gives her a hug which she barely comes away from. She skitters to the podium, wig slightly askew, and peals in that weird Capitol accent, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" She says a small introduction, but otherwise, she wastes no time getting to the reaping. She starts with the girls. She digs in the large glass ball and draws her hand back out with a slip of paper. She reads it.

"The girl tribute for District Twelve is… Primrose Everdeen!"

A murmur of dissent emits from the crowd, as it always does when a twelve year-old is selected. I see Katniss through the crowd, calling Prim's name, and the sixteens make a path. She makes her way through the crowd to the steps, where Prim is standing. "I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!" She says. This is not a typical occurrence in 12, or hardly anywhere. I found more respect for her in that moment. I knew that my brother would never volunteer for me, and I would not for him either.

"Lovely!" Effie says. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one comes forth, then we, um…"

"What does it matter?" Chimes the Mayor. "What does it matter? Let her come forward."

Katniss climbs the stairs, and her sister screams. She turns to Prim and speaks to her. Gale comes to take her away. Once she's on the stage, I can't hear what Effie says to her, but she asks for a round of applause for our newest tribute. I lose hope for myself after that moment. She's as good as dead now. I hope with all my heart that she makes it home, not for my own selfish reasons, but for her sister's sake. Haymitch decides to congratulate her then, and staggers over to her. "Look at her! Look at this one!" He says. "Lots of… Spunk! More than you! More that you!" He points at the camera, and then promptly falls off the stage. Some Medics take him away on a stretcher.

"What an exciting day! But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She crosses again to the boys' ball this time, and reaches in for a name. She comes back to the podium and reads off the name from the sheet of paper.

` "Peeta Mellark."

I realize that she has called my name, and my face hardens as I register what is to come. And who I may have to kill. Effie asks for volunteers, and there are none. Mayor Undersee reads the Treaty of Treason, but I don't listen. I think of the moment that led us to this, the moment where, had I not made the decision I did, Katniss Everdeen may have been dead, and I wouldn't have the potential circumstances to kill this beautiful girl. The girl that the birds stop whistling to hear sing…

I remember that night as I remember every memory involving Katniss, with unusual crystal clarity. My father was teaching me how to make a fruit and nut bread, and I was having a little trouble with it. I'd tried several times to perfect it, but I was just not getting it. I gave the other loaves away, unbeknownst to my mother, to families that lost members in the mine accident in which Katniss also lost her father. I hadn't seen her; otherwise, I would have forked over all the bread in the bakery if I could have, but the burnt loaves would have had to do if she came in.

I remember hearing my mother scream out the back door into the heavy rain, probably at some poor kid who just wanted something to eat, even if it was garbage.

"MOVE ON! GET OUT OF THE ALLEY OR I'M GOING TO CALL THE PEACE KEEPERS ON YOU!" She screamed. "I am so _sick _of having those brats from the Seam pawing through my trash!"

What she said caught my attention. The Seam? I had to look. Just to know. I stuck my head out the doorway and saw a starving Katniss Everdeen, her oversized jacket drenched from the rain. Mother went back inside, and I watched the oldest Everdeen girl, who had seemed so strong even though she was now the sole provider for her family, walk around to the other side of our pig pen, and sink to her knees. She looked tired, and weak, hollow, her cheeks and eyes were sunken from mal-nutrition. I had to find some way to help her if I could.

I went back inside to the smell of burning bread. I cursed myself for letting the two loaves blacken. But I realized that this was my way of helping Katniss. I took them out of the oven, and my mother started screaming at me. She hit me with the butt of her rolling pin. I felt the weal begin to rise immediately.

"No one decent will buy burnt bread, Peeta! Take it to the pigs." She told me.

I walked into the rain cradling the bread in my arms. Once I got to the pig pen, I looked back to make certain mother wasn't looking, and I tossed the first loaf, then the second, her way, and ran back inside. I didn't check to see if she had picked them up, but the next day I looked to see if they were still there, and they weren't. I'd gotten a black eye for a good reason. I saw her later, and shamelessly stared at her in the school yard. She looked better, healthier, just because of a loaf of bread, because of something that I did for her. The color was back in her cheeks. She met my eyes and I didn't look away. She blushed and looked down. She kneeled and picked what I think was a dandelion.

The Mayor finishes reading and I shake Fatness's small hand, wishing that the first time I ever held it could have been under very different circumstances. But it couldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

The Peace Keepers take us to the district's Justice Building, and once we're in, we're escorted to different rooms, for the hour the tributes are allowed to say goodbye to their families. I walk into the room, and once the Peace Keepers shut the door behind me, I immediately begin to cry. I cry mostly for what's to come. I don't want to have to kill anyone. I don't want to play into the Games and die the way the Capitol meant for me to, for the rebels who are all long dead. Why should we have to suffer, when we weren't even living back then? I understand that what the Districts did was wrong, but how were they to know what would come from overthrowing our government and starting a war? We know next to nothing about the past, and as far as we know, the Capitol has no records of it, but seeing as Panem does have a past, we live in the ruins of what must have been a very powerful nation. Their civilization came to an end, more than likely of the same cause that began the annual Hunger Games. I hated the Games for all that they symbolized, but they were working for their purpose; to keep the Districts in check. For how much longer, no one could know. I'd heard talk from the mines, amongst our customers in the bakery. The miners are getting sick of the way that we are treated. I was, too, but this wouldn't be the way to solve things. I don't know what would, but I know that an uprising wouldn't.

My father, mother, and brothers come in, and this brings on a whole new round of tears. They don't approach me or attempt to show any type of comfort. At one point, my mother actually says something about how we might actually have a decent victor this year, and she's not talking about me. It just goes to show that out of the two of us, she will be the one to come out of the Games alive. I'll be the one who gets shipped back to District 12 in my coffin. I have no chances of winning, and I know that. I'm also okay with that. My family leaves, and I don't expect anyone else to come in, but someone decided that Delly Cartwright was my friend. Delly walks in and immediately gives me a big hug. Delly is a bit thicker than some of the other girls in our district, but she's the nicest person I've ever met. She never has a negative word to say about anyone. She showers me with encouragement, and I dry up my tears for her, since, now that I think about it, she is sort of my friend. Her parents run the shop next to my father's, and we've grown up together. I want at least one person to have faith in me, and if it's Delly, then it's Delly, and she's all I've got right now. To Pass the half-hour that we have left, we talk about my father's business, school, and Katniss. Somehow, I think that Delly knows, about my feelings for Katniss. "Well, it's a little obvious when you won't stop looking at her at lunch long enough to eat your own food, now isn't it?" Delly squeaks. She stands up to leave when the Peace Keepers call for her, and she says this as her last words to me, "You're not fooling anyone, Peeta. Except for Katniss. And I encourage you to keep it that way. For your sake."

She leaves, and I start crying again, harder than I was before. This time, I cry completely for myself. I wish I could just have a chance. With life. With love. With _her_. The Capitol is taking all my opportunity away, and I hate them for it. Now all I really want to do is get these Games over with my dignity intact. I'm determined to break the barrier, to stand out in some way, so that I won't just die as a part of the Games.

The Peace Keepers extract me from my privacy, and put me in a car on its way to the train station, which I must share with Katniss. I try and keep my emotions in check, since I hate to have her see me this way. I'm Half tempted to ask her how she's feeling about all of this, but I can't bring myself to interrupt her thoughts. I notice that she has on a small golden pin, a brooch, my mother calls them, and it has a bird in the center. It's a mockingjay, I realize. Mockingjays are the mutation of a Capitol creation called a jabberjay. These creations, called muttations, or mutts for short, were all male, and could memorize entire conversations, and were made for intelligence purposes. So that the Capitol would know about everything that the people of the Districts say against the Capitol. Eventually, someone figured out what the jabberjays were doing, and they started feeding the Capitol false information. Undoubtedly, those people were killed. The jabberjays were left alone after that, but what came next I'm sure the Capitol wasn't expecting. The jabberjays mated with mockingbirds, and produced these beautiful birds. They can't imitate human voices, but they can sing beautifully. Katniss reminds me of a mockingjay, in a way. Against all odds, she survived when there was nothing left to survive on. She found her way. And she can sing, oh, she can sing…

It was the first day of school, and my father walked me there. I saw Katniss from across the school yard, and even then, back when I thought girls were icky, I still thought she was kind of pretty. She was wearing a red plaid dress, and her hair was in two braids instead of her usual one braid. Her mother was with her and she was holding a baby Prim. She looked excited about going to school. I looked around at all the other kids, some who I knew before, and others who I would never know, like Katniss. My dad kneeled down in front of me and said "See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner." I remember asking him why she ran off with a coal miner when she could have my father, and he told me that when he sings even the birds stop to listen.

I remember during the music assembly that day, the teacher asked if anyone knew that valley song, and her hand shot right up in the air. The teacher called her, and she stood on a stool and she sang. I heard nothing else, because all the birds had gone quiet to hear her. I knew from that point on that I had to make her mine. I fell for the coal miner's daughter, and I was just five years old.

We arrive at the train station and board the train, waiting for the photographers to get their shots of us, and then we're off to our deaths. I am escorted to my compartment. It has an incredibly lush décor about it. The room includes a chair that must have foam in the cushion, which I refuse to sit on, because if I do, I'm slightly afraid that I won't come out of it. I explore my room, and have to stop once I open the bathroom door. I'm fairly certain that I won't be taking a shower willingly on this damned train.

Effie comes to retrieve me, and by then I am sitting on the floor outside of my room. She gives me a questioning look, but shrugs her shoulders and takes me to the dining room. When we arrive, I see that Haymitch is looking nauseous with his head in his hands on his knees. Effie turns back the way that we came, to go get Katniss I presume.

"Well… I'm going to hit the sack." Haymitch says, and he walks off in the other direction, and I'm left alone in the dining car, with no one but the Capitol servants to talk to. I wouldn't do that anyway. They never have to suffer. I wonder if these people are being punished, or if they choose to watch tributes go to the Games. Really, they're just helping us to die. It'd be magnificent if they would assist me in throwing myself off the train.

Effie comes back with Katniss in tow; she's changed into a forest green shirt and plain black pants. She's remembered to attach her brooch to the shirt and it glints in the light.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie asks me.

"Last time I saw him, he was going to take a nap." I tell her.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day." She says, and she sounds relieved. Probably because she doesn't have to deal with Haymitch for a little while.

The Capitol food is incredibly rich, but it keeps coming. I am stuffed by the main course. Effie comments on our manners, and says that she was disgusted by the pair of tributes from last year's Games. Apparently, the pair of tribute's from last year's Games ate everything with their hands, which didn't surprise me, since they were from the Seam. Katniss is an exception, but I know that when you live in the Seam, you kind of have to eat like someone's going to take it from you. After that exchange, Katniss is making it a point to eat with her fingers and wipe her hands on the table cloth from that point on. Effie looks constipated.

The cake is what really got me. I'm feeling slightly woozy by the time we're done. After the meal. We go into another car and watch the reaping recap. This year there are actually volunteers. The boy from 1, who looks like a beast from the wilderness. The girl from 7. We get through all the districts and finally come to our own. It's heart-wrenching to watch Katniss volunteer in place of her sister for a second time, because I can actually see her reaction. I then watch Haymitch fall off the stage, and conceal a laugh. Effie is in a state about her pink wig. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation." She says, in a voice that's about to octaves higher than normal. "A lot about televised behavior." I let out my laugh. What was she expecting? "He was drunk. He's drunk every year." I tell her.

"Every day." Katniss unexpectedly chimes in. I smile at her joke, but she doesn't notice. Effie gets an angry look and hisses when she speaks.

"Yes, how odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can be the difference in your life and _death_!"

Just then, Haymitch comes into the car. He's definitely going to be sick soon. "I miss dinner?" He asks, and he vomits on the floor, then falls in it. Effie looks disgusted, and just before she leaves the room she says, "So laugh away!"

Haymitch proceeds to wallow in his own vomit. He wipes some of the vomit onto his face. I sigh.

"Let's get you back to your room. Clean you up a bit."

Katniss helps me take Haymitch back to his chambers and put him in his shower and Katniss turns it on, since we don't want to spoil the bedspread.

"it's okay, I'll take it from here." Katniss looks relieved when I say this. I know that her mother is a healer, and I would have expected her to help. I hoped that she would, but she says that she would send one of the Capitol people help me. I tell her that I don't want them, but I mean that I want her. She walks out the door. I remove Haymitch's wet clothes and rinse him off. I don't attempt to turn any of the knobs or press any of the buttons, for the fear that I may damage the shower. Or Haymitch. Or myself.

Once I turn off the knob that I saw Katniss turn the shower on with, Haymitch is at least coherent, enough so to get dressed on his own. I toss pajamas and underclothes into the bathroom, and he dresses and comes out. He sinks into a lush chair, the very same one that I was afraid to sit in. He looks up at me expectantly.

"So?" He says.

"So what?" I ask him.

"What do you think?" He asks me. I start to ask what he means, but I realize he's talking about Katniss. Every tribute has an angle. For the girls, it's things like "Sexy" or "Shy". For boys, it's "Strong but Silent" or "Charming Lady-Killer". I make a decision, right then and there about what mine will be. And I think that I might be able to reach my goal of avoiding dying just as just another token in the Games.

" She'll make it. She'll be the one to come out alive. And between the two of us I intend to keep it that way." He raises his head to look at me, and I realize that we have a mutual understanding. We are going to keep her alive in the arena.

And to do this, I am going to be in love with her.


	3. Chapter 3

I quietly make my way back to my compartment and fling myself on the bed, not caring enough to remove my clothes. I'm too exhausted to care at this point. Between planning out the rest of my plot and Haymitch being an alcoholic, I am really beginning to wear down. The bad parts are that the Games haven't even started yet, and that I am better fed then I have been in my entire life.

The next morning, I wake with a start as Effie burst into my room and starts yammering about how this is going to be a BIG, BIG, BIG DAY! I try to make subtle hints to get her to leave the room, but she doesn't pick up on them, so I avoid her gaze as I change into a different shirt and pants. She escorts me to the dining car, where Haymitch is already eating. This surprises me, considering how far gone he was last night. Effie says that she's going to go wake Katniss.

I sit down at the table and behold all the food in front of me, some of which I recognize, most of which I don't. I look at a brown liquid that looks like something foul. When Effie comes back in and sees me staring at it, she informs me that it's called hot chocolate. I have had chocolate before. When my mother isn't around and my father is making chocolate cake, he sometimes lets Lyca, Mykalie or I lick the spoon. I take a sip of the warm liquid and I shudder; it's ridiculously good. I drain my mug several times and the attendant keeps filling it for me.

"Where is that girl?" Effie asks. "Punctuality is very important in the Capitol you know!"

"Give her some time. She's obviously under some stress. She needs a little release." Haymitch says to her. "Hey, Peeta, go help her out, will you?" He says to me, and I immediately feel a blush creeping up around my neck. I've been hoping that what I said to him last night would remain between us, and obviously it won't; Effie is our other escort, and there are no secrets between tributes and there team on this train. She storms out muttering under her breath, and just then Katniss walks in. She gives Effie a questioning look, but doesn't ask.

I'm very thankful.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch exclaims. She obliges and as soon as she does, an attendant sets a plate of food, the same size as mine, down in front of her. She takes it all in, but appears cautious of the hot chocolate, just as I was. I tell her that it's good and she takes my word for it, and then drains the entire cup before commencing shoveling food in her mouth.

We eat in silence for the rest of the meal, and Katniss leans back in her chair and looks at Haymitch, who is knocking back the last dregs of some red juice.

"So," she begins. "You're supposed to give us advice." She doesn't say it like it's a question, because I can tell that she doesn't expect Haymitch to be serious about any of this, and neither do I. Although I fully planned on making him be very serious.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." He says and he starts to laugh. This makes me unbelievably angry, and I look at Katniss. She meets my gaze and I turn back to Haymitch.

"That's very funny," I say, knocking the glass of liquor out of his hand. "Only not to us."

Haymitch just looks at me, then he lands a punch on my jaw, and I hit the floor. I hear a thud on the table as Katniss's knife embeds in it. The scuffle stops.

"Well, what's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

I get up slowly and start to grab some ice for the slowly rising bump on my jaw from beneath a tureen of fruit that's sitting on the table, but Haymitch stops me.

"No, let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it to the arena."

"That's against the rules." I say.

"Only if they catch you. That bruise will say that you fought, you weren't caught, even better." He tells us, as if it should be an obvious thing. He turns to Katniss.

"Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?" He asks her, and she hesitates for a moment before pulling the knife out of the table and throwing it at the wall, hitting right between to panels of it. Apparently, a bow and arrow isn't her only mark.

Haymitch tells us to stand in the middle of the room and we oblige; he begins examining us, checking out our muscles and features.

After a minute he takes in a slow breath.

"Well, you're not entirely hopeless." He says. "Seem fit. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough."

It _was_ an obvious thing that the prettier you are the more the public loves you. You get more of an advantage in the Games if you have sponsors.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly what I say."

I hesitate before agreeing, because I'm not exactly sure what Haymitch's version of "Sober enough is" but I take the bargain.

"Fine." I say, and then Katniss starts in with her questions. Sometimes I get the feeling that she doesn't know when to quit, because right now I'm afraid if she pesters Haymitch too much then he'll go back on his word.

"So help us. When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone-"

"One thing at a time." Haymitch says. "In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist." I start to protest but he reinforces his statement, and exits the car.

As soon as the door swings shut behind him, the car goes dark. We can only be entering what I must assume is the tunnel to the Capitol.

This was the downfall of the Rebellion.

The Capitol is completely nestled by mountains on all sides, and they could see the Rebels coming from miles away with their advanced technology. All it took was a couple of aircrafts dropping explosives on the camps and that was the end of it.

Katniss and I stand in the dark cabin, I don't move because I know I won't be able to maneuver it in the dark, and why Katniss doesn't is a mystery to me. I can hear her breathing, and it brings a little comfort to me. A comfort that I may not have once the Games begin.

Where we are right now explains what kind of situation we're in. I feel like it's the two of us in a dark room and all the light has been sucked from it by the Capitol. We are alone, and we are scared of moving. We are playing a game, something my father told me about once. He called it Russian roulette I believe. Each of us is waiting on the other to lose focus so we can escape. Me, all I want is to win her over. I think she may actually want to kill me.

When the sun finally lights up the darkness, we are slowing down, and I can't resist the urge to rush over to the window to behold the magnificent Capitol.

What they broadcast of it on television pales in comparison to what it actually is. There is so much color and everything shines like Mayor Undersee's shoes when he's invited to come to this place. There are swarms of people at the station already, awaiting our arrival.

I wave at the throngs of people, and Katniss gives me a questioning look.

"Who knows?" I ask. "One of them may be rich."

At that, I can feel her shooting daggers at me with her eyes. I get the feeling that she hates me right at this moment.

And suddenly, the city in front of me isn't so beautiful. It has become hell, because it is what has caused her to hate it, its cruel Games and me.

I am disgusted by it.


End file.
